Small Time Crooks
by CampbellMay
Summary: Mal cooks up a daring heist, mostly to prove to Inara that he can do big jobs just as well as petty ones. It'll take everything his crew has to give in order to get away clean, and it just might be asking too much.


AU: Well, I've finally done it – my first Firefly fic. What can I say? Don't know what took me so long, but I picked up the box set a week ago and fell in love. :) Just a few notes before we start. This is story is set post-_Serenity_, but as you will notice it is an AU, since Wash is still alive. I did this because A) Zoë's grief would be an unavoidable issue I'd have to address, and seeing as there are other issues I'd like to concern myself with, I thought it easiest to keep Wash around for this one. B) I love Wash. :(

That's all I got! Hope you enjoy it!

"Folks, this is your captain speakin'. We're fixin' to touch down any minute now, and I'm gonna need all personnel to the bay for a little chat."

Mal cradled the intercom with a small swagger of self-importance, slapping Wash on the back for good measure. "Come on, Wash. We got us a heist to sort out."

"That's what you keep tellin' me, Captain, but from my end it doesn't sound like nothin' but a lotta talk."

Mal barked a laugh and shook his head, turning to make his way towards the cargo bay. "Ye of little faith, my friend. Ye of little faith."

It took under a minute for the crew to gather in the bay, they were so eager; Mal had been crowing about his 'ultimate job' for a full standard week now, and everyone was plain sick and tired of hearing about it. It wasn't like Mal to be tight-lipped when genius struck him, and as a result there were several bets going as to whether he really had been struck, or had simply run out of ideas and was hoping to buy some time. If one was to figure on the immensely self-satisfied look on his face, he clearly had something up his sleeve.

"Folks, today is the day we kiss petty pilferin'," he gave Inara a pointed look, "good-bye."

"Captain, I've had to say this more times than I should. I'm _not_ helping you knock over a bank," Zoë told him firmly, clearly one of those who had bet against any striking of genius.

"I'm not claiming to know anything on the subject, but I can't help but feel that Nineveh is possibly the stupidest planet in the 'verse to steal from? Does the phrase 'drawn and quartered' mean anything to you?" exclaimed Simon, looking rather angry.

"Mal, he's right. The Ninevite Caliph has no regard for Alliance law, he'll just toss you in a rocket with one bullet in your gun and send you on a free tour of Reaver territory," agreed Inara.

Kaylee looked horrified. "_Wo detain a_, they really do that?"

Mal threw up his hands. "I can't believe it. Not a one of you fancies me capable of runnin' my own job."

"It ain't that, Captain," Kaylee quickly reassured him. "You're real smooth with the shootin' and the quick thinking, but when it comes to drawin' up strategies and things of that kind –"

"It don't ever happen right," finished Jayne. "We do quick and dirty. We hit and we run. Fancy plans leave big empty holes for giant problems. And no hard feelings, Cap'n, but this just ain't your field of know-how. _Suànle._"

"We're middle men, Mal," said Zoë, trying to let him down easy. "We get a job, we pick up the goods, and we deliver 'em. It always goes best that way."

"All right, now just hold up for a minute," said Mal, beginning to look annoyed. "Howsabout I tell you the plan, and then you rip into me. That shiny with you folks?"

When he didn't get a response from anyone, he ploughed on. "Right. Now who wants to play along and tell me what Nineveh's biggest exports are?"

"Silk and spices," answered Inara without missing a beat. "It's one of only three planets in our system that the mulberry trees took to, and –"

"That's right," Mal cut her off. "It's also one of only two planets that can grow diamonds natural."

With the exception of River, everyone's eyes grew wide. Never in any of their wildest dreams had they imagined Mal cooking up something so outrageous.

"Now just let me speak my piece!" shouted Mal over the protests spilling out of everybody. "Just shut up a minute. The Caliph doesn't deal in diamonds, so we run far lesser risk of gettin' picked up by law enforcement. These are diamonds in the rough I'm talkin' about, so we ain't gonna run into nearly as much security as we might if they were cartin' 'em cut. The location of the mines is nicely remote, in a desert valley, and the rocks are taken from the mines in horse-drawn wagons all the way to Port Elizabeth, which from what I can figure is no more than fifteen miles."

Mal looked around at everyone, making sure he had their full attention. He was glad to see that some of their doubt had turned into genuine skepticism at this point, and so he pressed on.

"Now, the wagons usually start out travelin' in caravans of three, with one guard per wheel, which could be a mite challenging. But oftentimes they get spread out, for one reason or another, and then we got us a window of opportunity."

By the looks of their faces, Mal hadn't won anyone over yet, but he had at least gotten their attention. Unsurprisingly, Jayne was the first to bite. "So how much we talkin' here, Cap'n? How much can they possibly fit on one teeny little cart?"

"Clearly, you've never dealt in diamonds before, Jayne," Inara beat Mal to answering. "A diamond in the rough the size of a strawberry can bring in as many as four thousand credits, and at least nine thousand platinum, if you find the right buyer. Just how many strawberries do you reckon they typically fit on that cart, Mal?"

"Well, there's four cases per cart, and from what I can figure you could fit maybe fifty or sixty diamond strawberries a case. What's the math on that, would you say?"

Jayne's face went slack as he tried to do the equation with his fingers. "A lot," he concluded with a sort of reverence in his voice.

"A lot is right. But there's somethin' extra. Inara, I'd be willin' to wager that you can tell us why Nineveh's diamond industry is so very unique?" ventured Mal, growing cockier by the minute.

A roguish grin came over Inara's face. "It's the only planet that harvests blushstone."

"What's that?" asked Wash, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"It's pink-colored diamond, to put it simple. It's one of the rarest and most valuable type of gemstone in the 'verse, and an ounce of 'em will have every one of us sittin' pretty 'til the day we die," answered Mal, grinning broadly.

"_Qingwa cào de liúmáng, _but I like the sound of that," said Zoë, a grin to match Mal's spreading over her face. It was no secret to Mal that she and Wash had been wanting to start a family for a long time now, but neither would dream of raising a baby around the kind of work that was done on _Serenity_. But with enough money to keep out of dishonest work, a family would be something they could actually start to consider.

"That sounds real pretty and all, captain, but there are still enormous risks involved," said Simon, frowning slightly.

"Killjoy," grumbled Jayne, giving Simon an ugly look.

"Look, this plan is going to _work_. I'm sure of it," insisted Mal, staring hard at his crew as if daring them to challenge him.

"How can you be so sure, Mal?" asked Inara, whose features had regained a touch of concern at Simon's reminder.

"Because it's mostly mine," affirmed River, who had been hanging back on her own up until that point. She stepped forward with a impish half-smile on her face, clearly just as pleased with herself as Mal was with himself.

Everyone turned to gape at her, but it was Simon that voiced his shock first. "_What?"_


End file.
